Like Home
by Don't Trust the Snake
Summary: Sometimes, when you see a guy off to the side of the road playing the guitar, you just have to stop. And sometimes, it even turns out a feeling a little bit like home.


**_Like Home_**

_Disclaimer: I sure do not own any rights to the characters or the song "Hallelujah." Which is a pity. But the plot's mine. :)_

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><p>He was sitting on the bench just off the side of the road, guitar held across his knees, head bent to his chest. His fingers were picking out a barely heard melody, the threads of his woven bracelet brushing silently against the strings. It was obvious that he wasn't paying any attention to what his fingers were doing, but his actions were nonetheless gentle—loving, even—as he teased a song from guitar.<p>

The very, very first thought Temari had, the knee-jerk reaction one that she couldn't stop, was _He's kind of cute. _And the second thought, the one that usually contradicted the first, was a slight reevaluation of the first: _No, really. He's kind of cute._

When Temari thought the same thing twice, it was usually important. She'd learned to kind of live with it, and act accordingly. So after she had her second thought, she crossed the street in an instant. It didn't matter that it was after 9:00 in the evening, or that the guy could be a psychopathic serial killer for all she knew. It didn't matter that she was already exhausted from cleaning her boyfriend's house all day and listening to him rant and rave and insult her. For just a moment, it didn't even matter that her brothers were both probably waiting for her at home. All that mattered was that both her first thoughts of this guy had been positive, and she was going to go find out why.

He didn't look up when Temari sat down by him. She didn't mind. It gave her a chance to study him without feeling self-conscious that he was studying her as well.

His appearance, when she first looked at him, was kind of dull. His dark blue t-shirt, patterned with some obscure band logo, was as faded as his jeans, which were torn at both knees and splattered with mud. His shoes were falling apart, one lace undone, the other missing, and the necklace he wore at his throat—just a piece of string with beads tied on, really—looked frayed. The only things that didn't fit with his general appearance were his charcoal black hair, which, for some ridiculous reason, had been styled to spike up dramatically in the back, and his guitar, which was absolutely beautiful. He was maybe a couple years younger than her, but he sure looked like he'd seen just as much. It was kind of funny, though, because no matter how faded and ragged the guy looked, he seemed so completely _relaxed._

Temari was more than a little bit envious. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had been that relaxed.

She was the one who broke the silence with a question, knowing that the guy wasn't going to be starting a conversation anytime soon.

"What'cha doing out here?"

He didn't look up as he replied. "Playing the guitar."

Temari scooted an inch or two closer, tilting her head to see if she could glimpse his face, to see if it matched his so smooth, so mild voice. "I can tell that. But why so late? Why out here?"

He shrugged, still looking down. "I've got nowhere else to play it."

"Why?" Temari asked, being almost purposefully nosy. "You got no home or something?"

Again, he just shrugged. "Nowhere I want to go."

Interesting. Temari looked briefly at the sky, quickly darkening, and decided that it probably wouldn't be too bad for her brothers if she stayed out just a little bit longer than usual. They might think that the worst had happened, but they were always worried about that. If she got back before midnight, at least, she should be fine. So she slipped her purse off her shoulder and set it on the bench beside her, asking, "You know a lot of songs?"

He looked up, then, and Temari was taken aback for a moment.

His face, which she had been trying to see, was slender and aristocratic, with sharp features that were accented by the hair that framed his face. His skin was pale, but not quite to the point of being unhealthy, and his eyes were a color that wasn't quite dark blue, but wasn't quite black, either. He looked kind of like a model, and kind of like a statue, and while Temari was _positive _that his was type of face that spent most of its time looking cold and aloof, right then he just looked relaxed. And more than a little bit beautiful.

She wanted to demand who he was, because people who looked like him didn't just wander around playing the guitar to themselves on street benches, but she just locked all that up and waited for him to answer her question.

"Yeah, I know a lot of songs," he said, running his eyes over her, just once.

Temari felt just a little bit self-conscious. Her clothes might have been a little bit nicer than his, but he probably could have worn a paper bag and made it look attractive. She didn't have his flawless-milk skin or his painted-raven hair, and she definitely didn't have his soul-staring blue-black eyes. She just had normal tanned skin, and dirty blond hair, too thick and too frizzy, wrestled into four ponytails, and muddy green eyes that probably couldn't find a soul if they tried.

She frowned, just a little bit. Usually she didn't worry about things like that. She couldn't afford to. So she shook it off, and said, "Why type of songs do you know?"

The guy looked up at the sky, still picking out an almost-melody, and said, "All types."

Not a very talkative one, him. Temari didn't mind.

"You want to play me one?" she asked him, and he looked just a little bit surprised.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Who else are you going to play for? You wouldn't be sitting out in here if you didn't want to be heard."

He considered that for a moment, still looking upward, and Temari took the moment to study his profile against the sky. She knew that he had to be someone, because her intuition was screaming at her, but she wasn't about to ask him where he'd run away from. And maybe her intuition was wrong this time, but it hadn't been before, so she decided that she'd just keep it all in her head, and analyze it later.

The guy didn't answer for a while, so Temari asked again, "You want to play me a song?"

"Hmm," he said. Then, "I guess. What song?"

Temari thought for a minute. She hadn't heard a lot of good music lately. Her boyfriend liked stuff that was hard and heavy and hurt to listen to, and her and her brothers didn't have much in the way of a working radio. So she thought, and she thought long and hard. After all, music was important, and you couldn't decide just like that in some cases. But finally she got the right one, and she said, "Hey, you know the song "Hallelujah?" It's one of my favorite."

The guy blinked, just a little bit surprised again, and said, "Huh. Mine, too." Then he sat up a little straighter, and reached up, shifting the strap of his guitar on his shoulder. He let out a breath, carefully cradling the guitar in his arms, and then began touching his fingers to the strings, coaxing out the first few notes of the song. Temari closed her eyes, just enjoying the music, even if she didn't know who the guy she was sitting by was. All that really mattered was that he was beautiful, relaxed, kind of amazing on a guitar, and, in general, a black-haired wonder.

The choice to start singing wasn't really conscious. It was just what was going to happen, so Temari didn't think twice about letting it. So she pulled her feet up on the bench, wrapped her arms around her knees, and opened her mouth to sing.

The first verse and chorus went wonderfully, Temari's voice melding perfectly with her accompanist's gentle melody. But then the guitar music continued, past the starting point of the next verse, because Temari couldn't remember how it started. It had been too long. That didn't seem to matter, though, because once the black-haired wonder realized that she wasn't going to start singing again, he replayed the chords and picked right up where she'd left off, singing the second verse and chorus.

Temari was kind of a little bit surprised, but not really. Of _course _he would have the perfect singing voice. Because it was both gentle and hard, smooth and slightly rough, and he got the mix of emotional and cold just right. He raised an eyebrow at her not-quite gaping, still picking out the notes on his guitar, and she took her cue and picked up the next verse.

They sat out there for an hour, maybe more. Temari asked for more songs, and he played them. Some they sang together, switching verses, some she sang alone, and there was one Temari couldn't remember the words to, just the music, so the guy sang it alone. A couple cars drove by, and Temari figured that the people inside them were probably staring, but she really didn't care. This guy had actually allowed her to relax. And that was _rare. _In between songs, Temari had talked a little bit, and the guy had said about five words, but Temari didn't mind.

It was completely dark by the time Temari finally said, "I should go."

The guy had remained bent over his guitar the entire time, his fingers never still on the strings. He'd only looked up a handful of times, but Temari's words caused him to meet her eyes once more. "Do you have somewhere you have to be?" he asked, in his mild voice.

Temari shrugged, picking up her purse and setting it on her lap. "I have two brothers I have to get home to."

The guy raised one of those perfect eyebrows. "Younger?"

Temari gave an apologetic little smile, standing up and sliding the purse on to her shoulder. "One younger, one older. I just worry, you know, because I'm the one who takes care of them. And it's pretty late. I don't want them to worry."

"Hn," the guy said, dropping his head back to his guitar. "Do you live very far away?"

Temari shook her head. "Nah, it's not too far."

"Hn," he said again. He looked up through the fringe of his bangs, blinking once. "Do you need someone to walk you home?"

Temari smiled, her nose crinkling. "Thanks, but I'm okay." She fished around in her purse for a moment, then emerged with a small canister held in her hand. "I've got pepper spray, so I should be fine."

For just one split second, the guy's lips twitched up in a smile.

It… was pretty amazing.

Temari felt kind of bad, because she must have stared at him for at least a minute before his carefully raised eyebrow pulled her out of her stupor, but she was so relaxed that she just shook it off, laughing at herself. "Wow, you must be tired of that. Girls, just, like, staring at you."

The guy shrugged. "Mmm, I've gotten over it."

They didn't say anything for another moment, just stayed where they were, her standing, him still sitting, just like she'd first seen him. It was silent, but not awkward, something Temari was unfamiliar with. She honestly hadn't known there was such a thing as a comfortable silence. But she really did have to go, so she shifted, just a little bit, and asked, "Hey, what's your name?"

The guy stopped playing. Temari watched him with interest, but all he did was say, "Hmm," and then tap a finger twice against the wood of his guitar. Then he sighed, and met her eyes, and said, "Sasuke."

The name didn't ring a bell. Temari didn't expect it to, not right off. If it had, he wouldn't have told her. But now Temari had a name to her face, so she smiled and said, "Well, thanks, Sasuke. I appreciate it. Really."

The guy, Sasuke, considered her for a moment, then said, "I appreciate it, too. Not many people take the time to listen to me."

"They should," Temari said. "You're good."

Sasuke gave a short, dry laugh, his fingers touching the strings again. "Thanks."

"You gonna be around here for long?" Temari asked, "Or are you moving on?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. We'll see."

"Well," Temari said. "I guess… I'll see if I see you, then?"

He didn't say anything, just tilted his head ever so slightly toward her and returned his attention to the guitar.

Temari smiled again, watching him for just a moment more, then turned and began walking away. She didn't make it too far before she heard Sasuke call out, "Hey," and she turned. He wasn't looking up, but she hadn't been expecting him to, so she just waited until he said, "I'm curious. The way I play; what does it sound like?"

Temari thought for a moment, then grinned and said, "The way you play? It sounds just like home."

And even though her brothers grilled her when she got home, and even though her boyfriend yelled at her for being late the next day, Temari couldn't have cared less. Because for the first time in years, she'd been home.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

_Eh... this is my favorite random side pairing. So this is just kind of for me, I'll be honest, because I couldn't get it out of my head and therefore wanted to write it. And I doubt it will stay as it is, because the story in my head expands far beyond what's written here, but for the moment, there you are._

_(Lyrics to "Hallelujah" were originally included... but techinally it is against the guidelines, so they were removed.)_

_~SNake_


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